Feeling So Sick I Was Unable to Walk When a Man Practically Supported Me to the Toilets.

At the age of nineteenth year, my regular journey to work involved an express bus. The vehicle was always jammed and would always be standing room only by the time I got on.

During a certain commute, I started experiencing terribly ill as the bus lurched around each corner. I repeatedly told myself to persevere for a few more stops until the bus got to my stop, so I could then make a mad dash to the closest public toilet to throw up.

The bus was approaching the street towards the stop when I understood I would not be to hold on. Suddenly, it was like a curtain fell over me. Everything just went blank and silent; like someone had cut the sound. I thought, “I’m going to faint”.

Fortunately, I stood near the front inside the vehicle, so I took a couple of steps to ask the driver and told the operator to pull over, explaining to him I was going to get ill. He opened the bus doors and I hurriedly stepped out onto the street.

My intention was to not get sick in view of six lanes of traffic, so I gathered myself and endeavored to walk to the park opposite the street, thinking I could it would allow me to find some privacy behind a bush to be sick. Yet I must have lost consciousness. I could feel my physical self, yet I was unable to walk or see clearly, so I started inching my way to the park.

“You right, love?”

In that instant, someone picked me up. There was an arm around my waist and a stranger inquired, “Everything alright, love?” I managed to tell the unknown man that I required to be sick. Therefore, he almost carried me down into a nearby building and guided me in the ladies’ toilets. He inquired if I needed him to stay with me but I refused.

A few minutes later, I felt better to the point of sitting on the restroom floor and from outside the door I heard him ask, “Are you OK, love? Is there anything you require?” I was incapable to stand up at that moment but I was able to thank him and after a few more minutes was able to move my legs. I made my way home passing the following days getting over what turned out to be a horrible case of gastroenteritis.

I never saw that man’s face – only his legs and a large container for tools he held – yet he rescued me, during a time when I was at my most vulnerable.

Many times, life has a way of making you defensive, aggressive and competitive. His was the sort of gesture that reverses that emotional callousness. He served as evidence that people’s natural inclination leans toward compassion, a quality I adore about my fellow humans.